


Prince Snow

by Siriface



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Prince Aegon, Prince Jon Snow, Targaryen Royalty, hidden identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2020-12-17 12:17:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21054266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriface/pseuds/Siriface
Summary: Aegon Targaryen the sixth of his name, is the oldest son of Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen; heir to the throne and destined to be the protector of the realm, regardless of how little that's what he wants.Aegon runs away to the North to escape his fate. Taking the false name, Jon Snow, he's able to hide his identity get a taste of the real world outside the castle.Things become more complicated when he finds himself beyond the wall and amongst the Wildlings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for any errors in the lore, and also for my more modern dialog. (I'm doing my best)
> 
> Tormund/Jon will come later.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

“Aegon,” Lyanne whispered, catching him off guard. He turned, lifting the torch to see her face in the dark hallway. Shaking her head, she walked forward, carding her fingers through his shoulder-length, raven hair. 

“Mother,” Aegon sighed, leaning into her soft touch. She was much gentler than the rest of his family. She’d come from the North, true, but she was a Stark; and like her brother Eddard, she had a kind spirit, tough, but also kind.

“Where do you think you’re going so late?” she asked, a knowing fear prickling in her eyes.

“I need to do this Mother,” Aegon whispered back, reaching forward to squeeze her hand.

Ever since he was young he’d longed to venture North to see the land his mother had grown up in. He’d longed to go farther even, to the Wall. 

“Your name day ceremony is in six months Aeg.”

“I’ll be back,” he promised. 

“You will hardly be able to make the journey in that time.”

“Mother-”

“Winter’s coming,” she pleaded.

“I need to do this,” he said again.

She blinked back tears, before finally nodding. “I will miss you.”

“Mother,” he smiled, kissing her forehead. “I’ll write to you.”

“No you won’t,” she laughed, wiping her eyes.

“What will you tell Father?”

“The truth.”

Aegon nodded. He’d not expected anything less. “Will you give me until morning?” he asked, hoping for at least a few hours head start. 

“He’ll let you go Aegon,” she smiled. He scoffed. “I know you and your father don’t always understand one another, but he-”

“He’s stopped me a thousand times before,” Aegon interrupted. 

“You’re a man now,” she said, with a sad smile. 

She’d often expressed her wish for her children to stay just that, children. She wanted to keep them under her care for as long as possible. Gaegar and Aerogon were fourteen, a mere eleven months younger than Aegon, and Henera was only five. Unlike Aegon, however, they all loved to be pampered by their mother.

Aegon had always been independent, and strong-headed. A fact that helped him in his swords lessons, training until he was one of the strongest fighters in the kingdom despite his age. Aegon and his father had often fought about his lessons, Aegon believing they were necessary, while Rhaegar thought they were an extravagance.

“You will always have the knights guard to protect you,” he’d argued, perhaps a million times over. “Learning the blade is one thing, but you obsess over it like a common sellsword.”

Aegon didn’t care. Some said he was as good as Jamie Lannister had been before he was killed for killing his grandfather, Aerys, and that was enough for him to keep going.

“See you soon Mother,” Aegon grinned, kissing her again.

“Be safe my son.”

She watched as he slinked down the entrance hall, and out of the castle.

“Lyanna?” Rhaegar frowned. “Was that Aegon?”

“Let him be,” she sighed, turning to hug him around the middle.

“His name day cerem-”

“He’ll be back,” she said praying it was true.

“If he’s not…” he trailed off, a threat in his tone.

“He will be,” she promised, patting his chest. “Let’s go to bed,” she said, kissing his shoulder as she nudged him further into the castle.


	2. Chapter 2

“Aegon?” Eddard gasped, standing from his place at the head table. “Nephew, you should have told us you were coming.” The whole hall was silent in their shock at having the heir to the throne in their presence.

“Aeg!” Arya cried out running to throw her arms around his neck.

Aegon grinned, spinning his young cousin around easily. They had only met twice before. Once had been for the birth of Henera five years prior, when Arya was five. The second time had been when Catelyn was pregnant with Rickon, three years ago. She’d been having a difficult birth and so his mother, Lyanna, had insisted that she give birth in King’s Landing with superior aid. All of the Starks, save Robb, had come down South.

Despite their short history together, they’d grown quite close, both feeling very much the black sheep of their respective households.

Aegon easily liked Arya the best, but he did love all his cousins.

Robb, six months his senior, was always willing to spar with him without reserve. As the heir to the throne that wasn’t always the easiest. People often held back, letting him win, or thinking better of hurting the young prince. Not so with Robb, and Aegon had always respected him for it.

Sansa was… what could he say about Sansa? She was polite enough, though a little doe-eyed, and obedient for his taste. He’d heard a rumor at there last visit that she wanted to marry him, and ever since he’d been sure to keep things very formal between them. He didn’t want to give her the wrong impression.

She was beautiful, Aegon could easily admit that, but she was not his match. There was more than just the blade that attracted Aegon to the sword. He appreciated the strength, and agility it took in training, yes, but he also sought out the stronger touch that came with the men he fought. He loved it when swordplay would turn to hand to hand. The thrill of another man’s strength pushed up against his had long ago taught him that he preferred the touch of men.

Granted, he’d never lay with a man, at least not physically. The visions that Aegon dreamed up would leave even Lord Baelish blushing. No one, not even his mother, knew of his secret affliction.

Then there was Bran, a boy of nine, and yet wise beyond his years. He’d been crippled a few years back which had led him to the book. Not only was he smart, but he was also clever, and Aegon could easily talk to his little cousin for hours at a time.

Aegon didn’t really know little Rickon, but any son of Eddard Stark was bound to turn out okay.

He didn’t have any cousin’s on his father’s side yet, but Daenerys and Viserys were only a few years older then he was. He got along with Dany okay, but Viserys was… he wasn’t a fan. He had the Targaryen madness that everyone knew. Aegon feared that madness. He feared being near it, and he feared it sinking deep within himself. It was one of his strongest reasons for wanting to escape King’s Landing; to avoid becoming mad.

“Thank you, Uncle,” Aegon grinned, putting Arya back on her feet, “but I didn’t want to cause any unnecessary welcoming feast.”

“Surely you’re due a welcoming to the North your Grace,” Ned grinned.

“And an early name day celebration,” Catelyn added, and the whole hall cheered.

Aegon blushed. He never had liked being the center of attention; especially when he’d done nothing to earn it.

“What brings you to the North cousin?” Robb asked, pulling up a chair for Aegon to sit beside him. Arya came to sit on his lap.

“Do you remember me telling you I wished to see the Wall?” he smirked.

“No!” Robb gasped in awe.

Ned and Catelyn’s exchange of worried looks didn’t go unnoticed by Aegon.

“Now Aeg,” Catelyn started. “Surely you’d rather wait to visit the Wall another time? Perhaps not so close to winter?”

“I need to do this Aunt Catelyn,” he said, leaving no room for discussion.

“I understand,” Ned nodded, which surprised Aegon. He’d never had someone say that. “The Wall is a place like no other.”

“Aye,” Aegon nodded. “I expect I’ll be off in the morning.”

“So soon?” Sansa asked, looking disappointed.

“I promised my mother I’d be back for my name day celebration,” he explained. “I’ve no time to spare.”

“In that case, we’ll prepare a room for you,” Catelyn smiled. She’d always been fond of Aegon, if not his father. “We had planned on traveling South for your coronation already. It was meant to be a surprise, but with you here it’s only practical for us to travel South with you on your way back.”

“That sounds lovely,” Aegon smiled. He felt bad for lying to them, but he couldn’t exactly tell them he didn’t intend on returning.

He wasn’t sure if he’d join the Night’s Watch or just keep running from there, but he couldn’t go back. He wasn’t built to be a king; he didn’t have it in him.

The month and a half it had taken him to journey North to Winterfell by himself had just proven to himself that this was what he truly wanted. He longed to be free.

He wouldn’t be the first to give up the throne for the Watch if that was the route he chose. His great-great-uncle Aemon was still serving in fact.

The next morning they saw him off, sending him with enough food and drink to make it comfortably to the Wall. The journey normally took a month, Aegon, in his haste, made it in half of that.

Along his journey, both from King’s Landing to Winterfell and Winterfell to Castle Black, he’d taken to calling himself, Jon Snow. He liked the idea of people treating him as they would anyone else. He would almost get excited when people refused him something or used a gruff tone with him. It made him feel like a real person.

“Who goes there?” a rough voice called out.

“Jon Snow,” he answered. “I’m on my way to the Wall.”

“Follow us bastard,” another man called.

Aegon was insulted at first. He was surprised to find how crudely bastards were treated, but then, he had done this to himself.

Winter, though not fully there, was certainly in the brisk air. Aegon tucked his cloak tighter around himself as his horse trotted him along behind the two men in black.

As the trees cleared and the Wall became visible Aegon was taken aback. It was one thing to hear of a wall that touched the sky, and, as it turned out, a completely different one to actually see it. It was incredibly high.

The gates to Castle Black opened and Aegon couldn’t help but grin. It was just as he’d always imagined it to be. Men in long black cloaks were training, the harsh clanking of swords was like music to Aegon’s ears.

“What’s your business here boy?”

“I’m just here to visit,” he began.

“No one comes here to visit,” a tall man cut in. He wore a sword of Valyrian steel, with a wolf’s head on the handle. This too Aegon recognized from his stories of the Wall.

“Lord Commander,” Aegon said, bowing his head. “May I speak with you?”

“Go on then,” he prompted.

“Privately?”

The Lord Commander didn’t look pleased, but he complied. “What boy?” he asked again, after leading them to his office.

“Lord Commander, my name is Aegon Targaryen, and I-”

“Your Grace,” the Lord Commander blanched, taking a knee. “I apologize for not recognizing you sooner.”

“No need for all of that,” Aegon sighed, waiting for him to rise again. “In fact, that’s why I asked your ear privately. There are two things I must ask of you. The first is that I’d not like your men to know my true identity. I don’t want to be treated like a prince here, and, therefore, would like to be addressed as Jon Snow.”

“Snow?”

“I’ve read that it’s not uncommon for bastards to join the Watch.”

“But you’re not joining-” he began, sounding almost afraid at the idea.

“Not yet at least,” Aegon smirked.

“But your father-!”

“Isn’t here,” Aegon interrupted. “And besides, it’s up to each man to decide his fate. If I take the Black it will be my own decision. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“The second thing I must ask is that you allow me beyond the Wall.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Your Grace!” the Lord Commander gawked. “This is highly unusual.”

“I’m to be King,” Aegon said, in his most regal voice. “I must know what I’m to be inheriting.”

“That’s… very noble of you, Your Grace, but I assure you the Night’s Watch is here to protect you from what lies beyond.”

“I don’t just want your protection, I want your loyalty,” Aegon said. It was a speech he’d practiced many a time. “I want to prove to you and everyone else that I’m worth serving.”

“Your Grace-”

“I’m not leaving until I’ve gone. So, either you can take me beyond, or explain to my father why you’ve allowed me to take the Black four months shy of my coronation.”

It only took an hour to gather a small party willing to head North. The Lord Commander, and three other Night’s men, named Edd, Grenn, and Pyp. 

As they walked through the tunnel below the Wall, Aegon’s heart was in his throat. He’d waited his whole life for this!

Aegon didn’t know what he’d expected, but it was a little underwhelming, to be honest. There was a clearing, and then trees, all covered in snow.

“You seen enough?” the Lord Commander asked, gruffly.

“A bit further,” Aegon said, hating that it came out like he was begging.

“Why is it up to Snow?” a Night’s man named Edd huffed. “I say we head back before there’s another Wildling attack.”

Aegon perked up at this. “Wildlings are nearby?” he asked, sounding perhaps a little bit too excited by that prospect.

“They’ve been storming the Wall,” the Lord Commander nodded.

They were just reaching the edge of the forest when Aegon spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. “There!” he shouted, pointing towards the motion.

There was a scream from one of the men behind him. Aegon turned to spot a huge dire wolf ripping out the throat of Pyp. He fell back a step, gasping, before drawing his sword.

Turning he spotted that the movement he’d seen was another dire wolf. They were being surrounded. Five of the beasts held them in a tight circle. Aegon, Edd, Grenn, and the Lord Commander all had their backs together, facing out, swords were drawn. They waited but they didn’t attack.

Suddenly there was a loud whistle from the woods, and the dire wolves stepped back giving them a few more feet of freedom.

Aegon turned to see, what could only be, Wildlings emerge from the treeline. These men were huge, towering over Aegon, and looked vicious. They wore fur pelts, strapped down with leather strips. They lacked the fineness of Westeros’ common clothes. In place of metal clasps, they had only knotted leather. Instead of shoes that laced or buckled, they wore tightly wrapped hide.

They looked… well, wild. 

He wasn’t left too much time to dwell on their appearance, as they steadily approached.

“Protect the bastard,” the Lord Commander whispered to his men. They looked confused but instantly moved to step in front of him.

“I can fight,” Aegon frowned.

“Shut up boy!” the Lord Commander snapped.

There was probably twenty of them, Aegon realized, as they just kept coming from the woods.

He felt his stomach sinking. He was a good fighter, but the odds were against them, and on top of that, he’d never fought a Wildling.

The Night’s men named Grenn, suddenly broke formation to storm forward swinging his sword wildly. Aegon mentally groaned at his stupidity.

He was instantly brought down by a Wildlings arrow. Following the arrow backward, Aegon realized that it had come from female Wildling with bright red hair. She looked tough and confident. She wasn’t like any woman Aegon had ever seen. She wasn’t gentle or kind, but a true warrior in her own right.

“We’re not going to kill you little Crows,” the man closest to them said. “Unless you attack,” he grunted, pointing at Grenn. The man was tall and broad. Black hair was braided back keeping it out of his face. “Follow us.”

Confusion clouded Aegon’s mind. All he’d ever read about Wildlings was that they were mindless savages hellbent on war. It didn’t make sense that they would not kill them. Why would they want to take them alive?

Aegon looked to the others. They looked ready to fight, which Aegon thought was definitely the wrong idea at twenty to three.

He sheathed his sword and stepped forward.

“Snow!” Lord Commander hissed.

“What do you want?” Aegon asked firmly.

The Wildlings started laughing. “Nothing that you could get us little Crow,” the redheaded girl said, shaking her head. “Didn’t realize they were accepting babes up in that Black Castle of yours,” she teased, talking to the Lord Commander.

“He’s not a member of the Watch,” he said. “He- If you let him head back, I’ll come easily.”

Aegon frowned. “No.”

“You do what you’re told!” he hissed.

“He’s not going anywhere,” the Tall leader growled. 

“He’s just a boy.”

The redhead laughed bitterly. “And you Crow? Have you not killed our children?”

Aegon jerked his head to the side to glare at the Lord Commander. “You kill children?”

“They’re Wildlings,” he spat.

“They’re people,” Aegon scoffed, feeling sick to his stomach. 

“Shut it little crow,” the leader growled. “No one believes you’re sympathizing with the likes of us.”

Aegon opened his mouth to say something and was promptly smacked in the back of the head by Edd. “Shut up Snow.”

“Tormund is going to like that one,” one of them laughed. 


	4. Chapter 4

It felt like hours that they walked, deeper and deeper into the woods. When they finally broke free of the line of trees, they were faced with mass expanses of snow-covered scapes.

Disguised and half-hidden in the deep snow, Aegon began to see camps of people. There were tents, built out of animal hides and large logs. There were fires all around the camp where people huddled together to keep warm as the night grew colder.

The redhead girl, who he’d learned was named Ygritte, and the leader, who’s named Torwynd, lead them towards the biggest tent a the back of the camp. 

Aegon felt naked without his sword. They’d taken them before they’d started walking.

Before they could reach it, however, a giant of a man burst through the entrance with another man held tight in a chokehold. The two were followed by a crowd of cheering Wildlings.

The young man, Torwynd, that had been leading them, burst forward to assist in the fight. “Father!” he called out, protecting the ginger-haired man doing the choking. He was instantly bunted backward, by the large redhead man; his father as it turned out.

The other man, that had been being choked, grabbed a spare ax that was standing in the snow and swung it full force at the other man.

Aegon expected to see the ginger man die then, but was surprised to see the man catch the brunt of the swing by the blade, with his bare hands; blood springing to the surface.

A feral grin took over his face and he laughed madly. “Is that all you have Mance Rayder?” he growled, pulling the ax out of the other man’s hand and bashing his own head into the other with a loud crack.

The red-haired man, Tormund was it, swung the ax down and split the man’s head in two.

Aegon had never seen anyone so powerful and… wild. Tormund had blood, old and new, across his face and hands. He was a true warrior. Aegon didn’t know what he wanted more, to be him, to fight him, or to fuck him.

“Father,” Torwynd said again, slowly approaching him.

Tormund looked up grinning. “My son,” he cheered, sounding truly pleased to see him. Looking past him, and seeing the crows his smile faltered. “You brought them back here?”

“You killed Mancer,” Torwynd said looking down at the man. “Are you-”

“King Beyond the Wall,” a harsh looking little girl cheered.

“Why did you bring them here?” Tormund asked, frowning as he walked closer to take them in. 

Aegon held his breath as the giant man’s eyes drew over him.

“This one’s the Lord Commander,” Torwynd said jabbing his finger into the Lord Commander's shoulder.

Tormund’s eyes lite up with excitement. “Perhaps a deal can be struck them.”

“Not a chance,” the Lord Commander growled.

“He was trying to protect the little one earlier,” Ygritte smirked, holding a knife to Aegon’s throat.

In a sudden rush, Aegon disarmed her and held the knife to her throat instead.

She laughed, clearly not afraid. She easily pulled away. Aegon hadn’t known what to do. For one thing, everything he’d learned about Wildlings was wrong, and besides that, she was a girl. He’d never hurt a girl before. So she’d simply walked out of his hold making him look like a joke.

“He also claims to be a sympathizer,” she laughed. “Maybe he was telling the truth. Or maybe he’s not got the balls.”

“You like Wildlings?” Tormund asked smirking.

Aegon didn’t answer. He was to busy tracking Tormund’s movements as he came closer and closer to him.

“What do you know about Free Folk little crow?”

Aegon met Tormund’s stormy grey eyes and held them. “I know that you’re people the same as us,” he admitted. “And I know that you don’t deserve to be treat the way the Night’s Watch has been treating you.”

Tormund raised a brow. “And how do we deserve to be treated young crow?”

“Equally.”

Torwynd laughed. “Aye, we do crow, but it’s never going to happen until we have the head of a Targaryen as leverage.”

“And why can’t you just talk to them instead?”

“A Targaryen? Talk to the Free Folk? They won’t so much as visit Winterfell, let alone venture further to the true North.”

“Is that what you want from them? A visit?”

This ignited a couple Wildlings to shout what they wanted.

“We want revenge!”

“We want blood!” 

“We want a fight!”

“We  _ want _ ,” Tormund cut in, “Freedom.” The rest of the crowd cheered.

“You are free?” Aegon said, confused. “You’re the  _ Free _ Folk.”

Tormund shook his head. “Freedom to roam a cage is not freedom. We want the freedom to travel beyond the Wall; to have lives there.”

Aegon had never been more confused. His whole life he’d longed to escape. Escape his family, escape his role, escape the rules society built around him. The Free Folk, though wild and dangerous, had always seemed his best bet.

How could the freest people he know still feel trapped?

“Course not all of us want to leave,” Tormund shrugged. “Me for instance. I wouldn’t head South if it would save my life.”

“I want to help you,” Aegon said seriously. He felt a sudden strong kinship. He may not understand why they wanted to leave their homeland, but he instantly recognized their plight. How could he not? Hadn’t he left his home in search of a better, freer life? He understood feeling trapped in your life; feeling trapped in your own home. He didn’t wish that on anyone.

Tormund tilted his head as he looked at Aegon, like the very idea of him confused him. “What can a little crow like you do to help?”

“I’m not-” Aegon began.

“Right, Jon Snow,” the Lord Commander interrupted. “What can a bastard like you do to help them?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“It’s what you are-” he started to argue back, but before he could say any more Tormund had hit him in the head with the handle of the ax, knocking him unconscious.

“What did you say?” Tormund asked, eyeing Aegon with a new interest. “What were you saying crow? You’re not a what?”

Aegon was shocked. “I- I’m not a crow,” he managed to say without a quiver in his voice.

“You look like a crow,” Tormund said, frowning.

“And you talk like a crow,” Ygritte smirked.

“I need to speak with the leader of the Free Folk,” Aegon said suddenly, making a decision.

Tormund stood taller, broadening his shoulders. “Aye,” he said gruffly. “You’ve found him.” The cheers from the surrounding Wildlings made Aegon assume he was telling the truth.

“Can I speak with you privately?”

“What are you doing Snow?” Edd asked, sounding frustrated.

“No,” Tormund said to Aegon, ignoring Edd as he frowned. “Free Folk don’t keep things from their people.”

Aegon looked a little hesitant to continue in the presence of the others.

“Speak little crow,” Tormund prompted.

“I’m not a crow,” he said again. “And my name is not Jon Snow,” he said firmly. 

“I knew you weren’t a bastard,” Edd scoffed. “You’re way too entitled.”

“I am not!” Aegon huffed, offended.

“Also explains why Lord Commander wanted us to protect you.”

“Who are you then?” Ygritte cut in, eyeing him. “Anyone important?”

“I’m from an influential family,” he nodded. “But I don’t want to be a pawn in your plan. I want to help you.”

“Little not-crow wants to help the Wildlings?” Torwynd snorts. “Who are you?” he asked again.

“I’d rather not say,” Aegon said honestly, “but if you get me a raven I-”

Aegon was struck hard across the face, his lip splitting. “You are entitled,” Tormund grunted, shaking out his hand from where he’d hit him. “You, little not-crow, don’t make demands.”

“I’m trying to help-”

“You don’t know what we want.”

“You want to be free,” Aegon countered.

“Right,” Ygritte scoffed. “And what does a Southern boy like you know about wanting freedom?”

Aegon thought he knew quite a bit on that subject actually, but he stayed quiet.

“You’re our captive,” she continued. “You don’t get special treatment just cause you’re pretty.”

Aegon felt himself blush, and the Wildlings laughed.

“Let’s get them inside,” Tormund said after a pause. “The little one looks like he’ll freeze easy.”

This, too, made Aegon blush.

They were led inside and sat near a fire, which Aegon was very grateful for. He’d been freezing ever since he’d reached Winterfell, but beyond the Wall had been ten times worse. The wind went straight through him, chilling him to his bones.

“Wake up pretty not-crow,” Tormund said, stroking his fingers across Aegon’s face.

Aegon leaned into the warm touch before jerking awake, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself fall asleep!

Tormund chuckled, again touching Aegon’s face. “You’re as soft as a woman.”

“As pretty as one too,” Ygritte smirked.

Aegon blushed.

“How old are you boy?”

“Sixteen. Nearly,” he added, as Tormund gave him a disbelieving look.

The Wildlingsvlaughed again.

“A young man then,” Tormund nodded. “My son Torwynd is seventeen,” he said, pointing to the young man that had led them back to the camp.

Aegon blanched at that. “You’re only seventeen?” he asked, amazed. Torwynd was a good six inches taller than him, with more defined muscles, and a full face of hair.

He suddenly felt very inadequate.

“Free Folk make real men,” Ygritte smirked, thrusting herself up against Tormund. He pushed her off, and for some reason that pleased Aegon.

“It’s time to eat,” Tormund said, passing cooked meat to Aegon, Edd, and the newly risen Lord Commander.”


	5. Chapter 5

At a week of being held captive, Aegon offered to help hunt.

“And give you a weapon?” Dormund scoffed; he was Tormund’s second son. Aegon thought he was around the same age as his brothers, and he found himself getting along with him quite well; better than his own brothers in fact.

“Scared you couldn’t take me?” Aegon teased.

The Lord Commander scoffed. He was disgusted each time Aegon showed any signs of connecting with the Free Folk.

“No!” Munda laughed. She was Tormund’s youngest child and seemed to be around the age of Henera. “Dor would beat you!”

“I don’t know,” he teased. “I’m pretty tough.”

“Pretty at least,” Tormund smirked.

Aegon only blushed a little bit this time. “Please, can I hunt with you?”

“Tell me your name,” Tormund insisted, for the hundredth time. 

“I’m not sure-”

“You ask me to trust you and yet you won’t trust me?”

“Don’t tell them,” the Lord Commander

Aegon glared at him. “My friends call me Aeg,” he admitted.

“Egg?” Tormund laughed. “Southen names are very strange.”

“Are you going to hatch?” Munda asked curiously.

“I think he wants to hatch into a Free Folk,” Dormund laughed.

“I think he’s scrambled,” the Lord Commander hissed, huffing as he turned his back to them.

“I will let you hunt with us Egg,” Tormund said, “But if you try to hunt anything other than game I’ll snap your neck.”

“You have my word,” Aegon said firmly, bowing his head.

“Your word,” Tormund chuckled, stroking his hand across Aegon’s cheek. Then he shoved a spear against his chest. “Let’s see if our little not-crow can hunt.”

Aegon and Dormund were tied with five hares each, Torwynd only having shot two. Tormund was mostly teaching Munda the bow but had managed to sack at least three or four pheasants. 

The real excitement began when someone in the group spotted a bear. They all scattered, moving to surround the beast, with the aid of their dire wolves.

Aegon had been stalking the creature with the rest of them when out of the corner of his eye he saw Munda running out onto the ice-covered waters of the lake. He threw his spear down and sprinted towards her, calling her name.

“Munda!” he called again, and just as she turned to face him the ice began to crack.

“Egg!” she cried out, tears springing to her eyes as the fear set in.

“Don’t move,” he shouted across the water to her. By this point, the Free Folk had realized what was happening and started sprinting back to watch in horror.

Not stopping to thinking, Aegon rushed forward onto the ice as far as he could. “Munda lay down like a star,” he instructed, wanting her to distribute her weight as to not break the ice. It took a moment, but eventually, she did listen. 

The Free Folk were yelling behind him but Aegon wasn’t listening. He took the rope from his waist and threw it towards her. Once she’d grabbed an end he slowly started dragging her across the ice towards himself.

“Egg,” she cried.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said desperately. “Don’t let go,” he begged, pulling her closer.

Just then the Wildlings sent the dire wolves forward to ‘help’.

“No!” Aegon shouted, and pulled the rope faster. The wolves sprinted past him to Munda and… the ice cracked.

Aegon’s heart sank as Munda dropped below the water. Two dire wolves had sunk below the water too, now thrashing to escape and pushing Munda farther down.

Aegon ran the remaining fifteen feet and dove beneath the water.

Hitting the cold was enough to take his breath away. It was like every part of him stopped working, and then had to turn itself back on again.

He came up gasping, getting scratched in the face by the panicking dire wolves’ claws. He pushed the pure white one out of the water and onto the ice’s surface. He took another gasp of air before diving below and gathering Munda in his arms.

He heaved her onto the ice and prayed that she was still breathing. The white dire wolf bit down on the drenched furs surrounding her and dragged her back towards the shouting Free Folk at the shore.

Aegon saw her coughing up water and was instantly relieved; she was alive.

The other dire wolf, still in the water, was panicking and kept clawing at Aegon. The cold was making him so numb he couldn’t feel if it was hurting him or not. Every time he had half pulled himself out of the ice the other dire wolf’s panicked thrashing would pull him back in.

With one last burst of energy, Aegon threw himself onto the surface of the ice and passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

Aegon could only remember flashes. Shouting Free Folk. Being laid sideways across a horse. The bitter cold. Rough hands tearing at his clothes, and then warmth. 

When he came to next he felt the pain, sharp and throbbing, across his face and chest.

“He’s awake,” Aegon heard someone shouting from beside him.

“Move!” That was Tormund’s voice. The gruff man was at his side then, shoving a horn filled with warm liquid against his mouth. “Drink little Egg.” 

Aegon drank. He found it was some sort of broth. It filled his whole chest with warmth. Looking down to his chest he found that he had large cuts down his front. He figured it was from the dire wolf. He also found that he’d been stripped of all his clothes and was covered in a pile of thick furs. He pulled them tight around him, both for warmth and out of embarrassment.

“Munda?” Aegon croaked suddenly, his voice rough.

“Aye,” Tormund nodded. “You saved her.”

Aegon relaxed slightly, resting his eyes.

“No Egg,” Tormund said, shaking him roughly. “You stay awake.”

“I’m fine,” he said, nodding off. “I’m jus-tired,” he said, slurring his words.

“Drink,” Tormund insisted, pressing the horn to his lips.

Again, Aegon obeyed, drinking as much as he could from the horn without choking. “Thank you,” he sighed. The heat was delicious and seemed to replenish him like nothing else. The fire, too, was a welcome bonus.

“You could have died,” Ygritte whispered, from beside Tormund.

“She ran on the ice,” Aegon said redundantly. “I- it started to crack.”

“Aye,” Ygritte nodded. “And you went out to save her anyway.”

“She’s a baby,” Aegon chided, tiredly. 

“She’s Free Folk.”

Aegon turned to glare at that. It had been the Lord Commander. “She is a baby,” he repeated.

“And you’re the-” he cut himself off glaring back at Aegon. “You know that was the wrong thing to do.”

Tormund smacked him hard across the face then. “He saved my daughter.”

“And he shouldn’t have risked it,” the Lord Commander growled, holding his face in pain.

The second time Tormund hit him, it knocked him out.

“Why is he so scared of you getting hurt?” Ygritte asked, looking curiously between the Lord Commander and Aegon.

“He’s afraid of my father,” he shrugged.

“Oooh,” Dormund laughed. “You think you’re daddy’s some important Lord?”

“No,” Aegon laughed. “He thinks he is, but no. He’s just a man.”

“Just a man,” Edd scoffed. “If you’re who I think you are, ‘ _ Egg _ ’, he’s not just a man.”

Aegon glared at Edd.

“Egg!” Munda cried out, entering the tent, and running to him.

Aegon felt awkward catching her on his lap, as he lay naked under a pile of furs, but he couldn’t help but stroke her hair back into place with a smile. Her hair was still slightly damp and she was bundled up more than usual.

“Can I have my clothes?” 

“You wear these,” Torwynd said, handing him a pile of furs and leather strappings.

“I wouldn’t know how to wear those,” Aegon said, embarrassed at the prospect of not being able to dress himself.

“You’re are still wet,” Ygritte laughed. “So I guess you’ll figure it out.”

“Or stay naked,” Tormund added, smirking at Aegon’s blush.

“You start with these,” Munda said, holding up a pair of trousers. “Do you want me to show you?” she asked when he didn’t get up to dress.

“No,” Aegon hissed, blushing madly.

“We all saw your pecker when we undressed you,” Ygritte laughed.

Aegon really blushed then. He grabbed the pants and pulled them on quickly, half-hidden under the furs. 

Munda handed him a leather belt with no buckles for him to tie them tighter.

“Now this,” she said, handing him a wide strip of hide. Aegon looked at it confused.

They all laughed. Tormund walked forward, gesturing for him to stand. He grabbed the hide strip and wrapped it around Aegon’s waist, tying the knots in the front. When he was done, Munda handed him the next piece of hide. This one was more like the traditional shirt Aegon was used to, but Tormund still helped him into it. Then he tied a fur around his shoulders.

He patted Aegon roughly on the shoulder. “There you are little Egg.”

Aegon was glad that his clothes were on. He may have been having his clothes pulled on, but it had still been oddly satisfying. He had to clear his throat to hide the hitch in his breath. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“And these ones are for when you go outside,” Munda cheered, holding up his outer furs.

“Thank you Munda,” he said, bowing his head.

“Thank you,” Tormund said seriously.

“For what?” Aegon asked frowning confused, until Tormund rest a heavy hand on Munda’s shoulders. “Oh,” he said shaking his head. “That’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“Anyone would have done the same-”

“Not true,” Tormund said. “Only a madman would jump below the ice.”

“You saved a life that was not yours to save; an enemies life.”

“You’re not my enemy Tormund.”

“Perhaps not,” he nodded.

“Egg, Shield to Free Folk,” Munda smiled, hugging her arms around his waist. Aegon pet her hair, as he accepted her affections.

“Papa?” Munda asked. “I don’t want Egg to stay with the crows anymore.”

Aegon frowned in confusion.

Tormund nodded. “He’ll stay in our tent then.”

“Oh,” Aegon blushed. “That’s okay. I don’t have to-”

“You’ll stay were I tell you,” Tormund demanded. “Now drink,” he said, gesturing for Torwynd to pass over another horn.

Expecting more broth, Aegon nearly chocked on the foul, soured taste that assulted his mouth.

All the Free Folk laughed.

“Soured goat’s milk,” Tormund grinned, taking the horn to slug down a swollow. “To toughen you up little Egg.”


	7. Chapter 7

It had been about a month since that first hunt and now Aegon was welcomed to join in all the hunts. He joined in preparing and cooking meals. He joined in the chores. He joined in drinking and story sharing around the fires. 

He’d learned a lot about the Free Folk, and a lot about Tormund and his family.

For instance, that Tormund’s third son, Dryn, had been killed a few years prior by the Night’s Watch. He’d also learned that Ygritte was four months pregnant with his youngest. They all thought it was a boy because when they poured milk on her belly it would spill to the right side, rather than the left.

He’d joined Tormund’s family in their tent each night, where Munda would often sneak into his bed to cuddle with him for warmth.

Torwynd and Dormund had taken to teaching him to fight like a Free Folk, and in exchange, Aegon was teaching them to fight ‘like a Southerner.’

“Tormund!” Ororn shouted running into their tent. “Crows! A party approaches!”

They all stood to follow, but Tormund shoved Aegon back. “You stay.”

“I could help you negotiate.”

“You’re not leaving us Egg.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Aegon admitted, and it struck him then just how true that was.

Tormund looked a little hesitant to agree but seemed to believe him enough to nod. “You’re not leaving,” he said again.

Aegon couldn’t help the warm feelings that swirled to life in his belly then. He’d known, of course, that Tormund and his family had grown close to him, but it was nice to be told that they wanted him to stay.

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, as he followed him out.

The party of Crows turned out to be ten men looking to save the Lord Commander.

“You can have him back if you deliver a Targaryen to the Wall,” Tormund demanded.

Aegon felt his stomach drop.

“Not a chance,” the Lord Commander hissed. “Targaryen’s don’t negotiate with savages.”

That earned him a hard smack across the face. The Night’s men’s hackles were raised, all drawing their swords.

“Calm down,” Aegon sighed. “He’s fine.”

“Who the hell are you to give us orders, Bastard?”

“He’s no bastard,” the Lord Commander growled. “He’s-”

It was Aegon who hit him that time.

“I’m the one negotiating for his safe return,” Aegon said, glaring down at the Lord Commander in a warning.

“Go on then,” a Night’s Men prompted. “Who are you?”

“Yeah, go on Egg,” Dormund nodded. “You said you were from an important family. You can help get a Targaryen here.”

“I’m not sure bringing the Targaryens here is the best way to get what you want.”

“That’s not for you to say,” Ygritte scoffed. “You tell them who you are or you’ll go back to being a captive.”

“Back to being a captive?” one of the crows glared, eyeing him suspiciously. “A bastard and a trader?”

“I’m neither,” Aegon sighed.

“We’ve sworn to protect the realm of men, not turn into Wildlings.”

“Firstly,” Aegon scoffed. “I’m not a crow, and secondly, look around you,” he said gesturing to the Free Folk. “The last time I checked, Free Folk are men also.”

The faces of the crows were varying between confused and offended. 

“He’s one of them,” one of the crows grunted, glaring.

“Better one of them than one of you,” Aegon muttered.

“You think so?” he growled, drawing his sword.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Aegon said, putting his hand on the handle of his sword, but not drawing it.

The crows laughed. 

“Do your worst boy,” he scoffed, “I’ll happily kid a trader like you.”

“Don’t hurt him,” the Lord Commander demanded.

They looked confused, but slowly lowered their swords. 

“I’ll write a letter for you to give to my father, Lord Commander,” Aegon said, trying to bring the topic around to negotiations. “He will convince the Targaryens to agree to the Free Folk’s request.”

“No,” Tormund frowned. “I won’t release the Lord Commander until the Targaryen is here.”

“Tormund-”

“No, Egg,” he said, a warning in his voice. 

“Egg?” one of the crows repeated slowly. “As in… Aego-”

“No,” Aegon snapped, giving his own warning look.

The Night’s Men all looked around at each other eyes wide, whispering back and forth. “I think it is-” “They just sent word-” “It’s him!”

“Okay,” the leader crow said, nodding. “We’ll send word and-”

“Don’t tell him I’m being held captive,” Aegon said suddenly, “because I’m not. Tell him…” he sighed, dreading what his next words would bring. “Tell him I’ve no intention of returning.”

“But you’re-!”

“I know who I am,” Aegon snapped. “Don’t argue with me.”

“Yes, Your Gr- er Lord… Snow,” he said bowing his head.

“What are you, a king or something?” Torwynd asked, laughing at the crow’s behavior.

“Or something,” Aegon murmured, feeling uncomfortable.

Tormund gave him a look then, that made Aegon nervous, but he didn’t say anything.

“I think we should let them take the Lord Commander and Edd back as a sign of good faith,” Aegon said, trying to draw attention away from himself.

“Then we have no leverage,” Ygritte scoffed.

“You have me,” Aegon said, feeling conceded. “My father will come for me,” he assured them. “Whether I like it or not,” he added softly.

“But will the Targaryens come?” Dormund asked.

“And the whole King’s Guard,” Aegon promised, already dreading their inevitable arrival.

“How can you be sure?”

“They’ll come,” Aegon brooded. 


	8. Chapter 8

Aegon had noticed that ever since they’d sent the Crows away with his message, that Tormund’s family had been even more welcoming of him. He thought it was because he’d admitted that he didn’t want to leave.

“Egg, you should let Papa braid your hair,” Munda said one night. 

“What?” he asked blushing. “Why?”

“Your hair is getting longer,” Dormund said, shrugging. “You don’t want it getting in your face.”

Aegon looked at him a little skeptical but eventually nodded. “Okay.”

“Come,” Tormund prompted, patting the space between his legs. “Sit here.”

Aegon’s pulse shot up. He tentatively slid into the spot he’d been directed, and held his breath.

His breath hitched slightly as Tormund brushed his fingers through his hair; his eyes fluttering shut.

“Go do your work,” Tormund suddenly instructed his children. Aegon’s eyes snapped open. The children groaned, but all went on their way, leaving Aegon alone with their father.

“T-thank you for doing this Tormund,” Aegon said softly.

Tormund chuckled. “You, little Egg, are getting to be a better Free Folk every day.”

“This will help me look the part,” Aegon laughed nervously.

“Naw, too pretty,” he smirked, leaning forward to press his lips to Aegon’s temple. He laughed when Aegon drew in a sharp breath. “You breathe like a woman. And you’re soft like a woman,” he added after a moment, running his fingers along Aegon’s smooth neck.

“Not,” Aegon tried to protest, but he was too filled with the heady sensation of Tormund’s soft touches.

Tormund chuckled as he set to work on his hair. He divided the hair into three braids, two stemming from his temples and the third from the center. 

Aegon couldn’t help but let out little gasps as he continued to pull at his hair and smoothed his locks into some intricate design.

“H-how did you learn to do this?” Aegon asked, trying to distract from his obvious arousal.

“My father,” he said, his voice, too, sounding heavy. “I learned when I was young, on my brothers.”

“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Aegon said, distracted.

“Had,” Tormund repeated. “They are gone now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Tormund said gruffly. “They died fighting. Both true and honorable deaths.”

“I’m sorry you lost them, though.”

“I did not lose them,” Tormund said confused. “I know where we burned their bodies. I know where their bones lay.”

Aegon laughed. “I didn’t mean- I meant, I’m sorry they’re not with you anymore.”

“They’re here,” Tormund said, pounding his chest.

  
“I guess it’s just something Southerners say,” he shrugged.

“You’re done,” Tormund said, running his hands along Aegon’s hair again.

“Oh… Thank you,” Aegon said but didn’t move. 

“You’re welcome little Egg,” he said, before wrapping his arms around Aegon’s waist to hug him close to his chest. Aegon gasped, before trying to shove his hands away from him.

Aegon had never been more embarrassed. Tormund was going to find out that he was hard, simply from having his hair braided.

“Shhh,” Tormund whispered pulling him back even tighter into his chest. “You like this I think,” he said rubbing his hand firmly down Aegon’s chest and then straight down over his groin.

“Tor- Tormund!” he choked out.

“You see,” Tormund growled, his hand squeezing his crotch. “I know you Egg.”

“We shouldn’t-”

“Why not?” he asked frowning. “You like me,” he said, giving another squeeze. “And I like you, pretty not-crow.”

“But you’re a-”

“Wildling?” Tormund huffed, pulling back slightly.

“A man,” Aegon corrected, blushing.

Tormund laughed. “That doesn’t seem to bother your cock.”

“It doesn’t bother  _ me _ at all, but…”

“But?”

“It bothers the Gods,” Aegon said flushing, feeling ashamed from his desires.

“It’s never bothered them before,” Tormund frowned.

“You’ve- I mean. You-”

“There’s not always a woman, but there are always urges,” Tormund shrugged. “We make due.”

“And it’s… okay?” Aegon asked, embarrassed.

“More than okay,” he nodded. “I take it you’ve only been with women?”

Aegon was sure that he went scarlet then.

“No?” Tormund frowned.

“I don’t like girls that way.”

“But then you’ve never…?”

“I’m still young,” Aegon said in his defense.

“I’d already fathered Torwynd at your age,” Tormund frowned. “Why wait? If your prick is full, I’m sure a little lord like you could find a young man to empty it.”

“Noblemen often wait,” Aegon explained. “So they don’t have bastards.”

“Wait until marriage?” Tormund asked, laughing. “You aren’t waiting are you?”

“I- I don’t think I can,” he said, instinctively thrusting into Tormund’s hand, that had never stopped massaging his prick.

Tormund laughed. “I didn’t mean to tempt you.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Yes, I did,” he grinned. “Were you waiting?”

“I can’t marry a man, Tormund,” Aegon whispered. “It’s not allowed.”

“I thought you were from an important family?” he asked. “Doesn’t that mean you can do as you like?”

Aegon laughed bitterly. “It means I have to follow the rules even stricter.”

“Why don’t you change the rules, if you’re so powerful?”

“Maybe I will,” Aegon said, thoughtfully.

“Does it feel wrong?” Tormund asked, pulling the leather tie loose from around Aegon’s waist and thrusting his hand beneath the fabric of his pants.

“No,” he groaned. “It f-feels good.”

“Papa!” Munda called, running into the tent.

Aegon gasped, pulling a fur up to hide where Tormund’s hand was still stroking.

“Tormund,” he gasped, trying in vain to push his hand off him.

“Oh!” Munda cooed. “Egg, your hair is so pretty!”

“T-thank you, Munda,” he gasped.

Tormund leaned forward to bury his face in Aegon’s neck and bit down hard, making him gasp, and thrust into his hand.

“Munda,” Tormund smirked. “Go play.”

“But Papa-”

Torwynd and Dormund entered the tent then, and still, Tormund didn’t stop.

Aegon lifted his hands to hide his face, groaning. 

“Get out,” Tormund hissed.

“Oh,” Torwynd laughed. “Come on Munda, Papa needs Egg right now.”

When they were finally alone again, Aegon let his hands fall away from his face. “Are you insane?” he asked.

“Insane?” Tormund laughed. “For wanting to please you, little lord?”

“For pleasing me in front of your children!”

“I am not embarrassed for them to see that I can please you,” he shrugged.

“But it’s private.”

“Not much privacy in the North,” he chuckled, stroking Aegon so slow it was more like torture than anything else.

Aegon whimpered and put his hand around Tormund’s to tighten the grip.

Tormund leaned back, pulling Aegon back with him, and suddenly Aegon felt a rather large bulge thrusting into his lower back. He groaned louder, pushing back into it.

“I can’t wait to fuck your tight little ass,” Tormund growled, nipping at his neck and ear. 

“Oh God,” Aegon moaned, letting his head fall back to give him greater access. “Yes.”

“You want that, little Lord?” he chuckled, thrusting hard against his back.

“Please,” he begged, matching his thrusts. 

“Or do you want me in your pretty little mouth?” he groaned. “I bet you couldn’t take it all, you’re so little,” he teased. “But you could try it.”

Aegon was practically salivating at his words. “Yes,” he moaned, again. 

“Come on little Lord,” Tormund growled. “Come for me,” he hissed, and Aegon was only too willing to comply.

He came harder than he could ever remember. Tormund held him tight, continuing to thrust against him a handful of times before he came crying out loudly.

“You did well my little Lord,” he sighed, kissing Aegon’s temple. After a minute he pulled his hand from Aegon’s pants and holds up his come-covered hand, admiring it. Aegon blushed, and then blushed double when Tormund brought it to his mouth and lapped at it with his tongue.

That night when they were preparing for bed, Tormund grabbed Aegon’s wrist and led him into his own bed.

“Tormund,” he gasped, looking over his shoulder at Tormund’s children.

“You sleep with me now,” Tormund said firmly.

Aegon had never slept in the arms of another man, but he found that he liked that too.


	9. Chapter 9

“Good!” Aegon cheered when Dormund disarmed Torwynd with a maneuver they’d been practicing. “Now Torwynd, let me show you-”

“Aegon!”

Aegon’s heart stopped in his chest; his eyes shooting wide with shock. He spun around to be faced with his father, Eddard and Robb Stark, and the whole of the King’s Guard. He could see several of the Free Folk lookout party tied up walking behind them.

“Go,” Aegon said, pushing Torwynd and Dormund towards the camp. “Go!”

“Egg?” they asked, confusion clouding their face.

“Just go!” he said, pushing them harder.

They clearly didn’t want to, but they turned and ran to get their father.

Rhaegar looked furious. “So it’s true then?” he hissed. “Gods be good, look at you,” he spat. “Dressed like a savage!”

Aegon could feel himself shaking. He didn’t know what to do. He’d dreaded this moment since the moment he’d left, and yet somehow it was worse than he’d ever expected.

The Starks were staring at him in disbelief, but luckily lacking the hatred that his father had.

“Egg!” Tormund shouted, running towards him with Torwynd and Dormund at his side.

His father’s knights drew back their arrows aiming to shoot him down.

“Stop!” Aegon shouted. “Don’t hurt them!” he yelled, running to shield them, pushing them behind his slender body.

Tormund’s eyes looked at the crowd of knights, before falling on the Stark banners. 

“You’re a Stark?” he asked, frowning.

“Aegon, as your father, I order you to step away from these heathens,” Rhaegar growled.

“Aegon Targaryen?” Torwynd gawked, looking horrified.

Aegon flinched away from their distaste. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Aegon!” Rhaegar growled. 

“Father-”

“You think you can run away from your role?” he hissed. “Your coronation is in a month and you send word that you’re not coming home?”

“Coronation?” Dormund hissed. “You’re a king?”

“No,” Aegon said quickly. “I- not yet. I-” he turned back to his father. “I’m not going to be.”

“You are coming home,” Rhaegar sneered.

“Perhaps we ought to speak and come to a better understanding,” Eddard said as calmly as he could muster with his nephew playing nice with Wildlings.

“This is not up for debate!” Rhaegar growled. “Do you realize how worried your mother is?”

Aegon sighed, shoulders slumping. “I realize that there are greater things to worry about.”

“You will be king!”

“No.”

“Yes!” he hissed.

“What are you doing Aegon?” Robb gawked. “You are responsible for the whole realm!” he scoffed. “You can’t just run away and become a Wildling!”

“There’s nothing wrong with being Free Folk,” Aegon sighed, feeling exhausted.

“So you never intended on returning?” Rhaegar asked, sounding hurt, but Aegon knew better than to believe that.

“No,” he answered honestly. “I can’t.”

“This is your birthright,” Rhaegar said firmly. “Your job. You don’t get a say.”

“You ran away to Dorne with mother,” Aegon accused.

“And then I came back!” he seethed. “And I didn’t run out of cowardice! I left because I loved your mother.”

“Egg is not a coward!” Munda hissed, actually spitting at them. “He saved me from the ice! He could have died!”

Torwynd grabbed her arm and jerked her away from Aegon. That hurt.

“Egg!” she cried out, reaching for him.

He reached out to sooth her hair, but Tormund stepped between them glaring down at him.

“Tormund-”

“You came here to play pretend?” he hissed. “A spoiled prince!”

“No-!”

“Yes!” Tormund hissed. “This is our lives Egg!” he growled.

“Mine too!” he frowned, feeling his insides being tied in knots.

He shook his head, turning his children away from him and leading them back to camp.

“Good,” Rhaegar laughed. “They don’t want you here anymore. Now we’re leaving.”

“Do you love me at all?” Aegon said softly, turning back to his father, eyes pleading. “Have you ever?”

“Aegon, stop being so dramatic. You know I love you.”

“If that’s true then you will let me stay here,” he pleaded. “You have Gaegar and Aeragon. They can just as easily be King. You don’t need me,” he begged.

“You are my firstborn son!” Rhaegar said, baffled. “You will be king, not your brothers.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You will,” he sighed. “You will appreciate this someday. You don’t want to struggle with these dirty-”

“These people understand me!” Aegon snapped. “These people are my friends! My real family.”

“Your real-” Rhaegar was seething. “You dare claim these savages as your kin?!”

“I’m not leaving,” Aegon said again.

“If you really care for your savage friends than you will,” Rhaegar hissed, a nasty smile turning his face ugly. “I have enough Wildfire to torch everything beyond the Wall.”

“Father!” Aegon gasped.

Eddard and Robb, too, both looked taken aback at Rhaegar’s admission.

“I will burn every last Wildling to the ground, and still you will come home and take your role!”

“I’ll come with you,” Aegon suddenly hissed. “I’ll be the king, but only if you leave them be,” he whispered. “If I find out that even a single Free Folk was hurt by you or your men, I will kill myself just to spite you.”

“Aegon!” Eddard gasped. “Don’t even joke about such a thing!”

“Do I look like I’m joking!” he shouted. “I don’t care what any of you say, the Free Folk are my family. They are my people!”

“Fine,” Rhaegar hissed. “I won’t hurt them. Now get your horse so we can go.”

“I have to say goodbye.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” he hissed.

“Let him say goodbye,” Eddard said firmly. 

Aegon didn’t wait for his father to give an answer, before turning and making his way towards Tormund’s tent.


	10. Chapter 10

“Tormund?” he whispered, pulling back the flap of the tent.

“Egg!” Munda sobbed, running past her brothers to wrap her arms painfully tight around his legs. “Oh, Egg! Don’t leave!”

Aegon had to blink back tears. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his heart in his throat. “Please believe I don’t want to leave you.”

“Get out!” Tormund shouted, slamming one of the horns he drinks from onto the ground and shattering it.

“Let me explain-”

“Get out!”

Aegon looked to Torwynd and Dormund for any signs of aid. They mostly glared, but finally, Torwynd sighed and pulled his siblings from the tent.

They stood in silence for a long time before finally, Tormund walked closer to Aegon.

“Egg,” Tormund growled, thrusting Aegon back into the wall. “Why did you come beyond the Wall? Why did you come here when you had everything waiting for you.”

Aegon felt like screaming he was so frustrated. How could he say that to him?!

“What was it you said?” Aegon finally managed to spit out bitterly. “Freedom to roam a cage isn’t freedom, Tormund.”

“You have no cage, little King,” Tormund scoffed.

Aegon actually laughed at that. “Tell that to my parents. Tell that to all of King’s Landing, and the seven realms. If you truly think I’m free then you know nothing, Tormund.”

“Aegon!” his father called from outside.

Aegon cringed, blinking back tears. “You want to know why I came beyond the Wall?” he asked, desperate to explain himself. “Because I wanted to be free too,” he said gesturing wildly towards his father’s voice.

“You’re free, King,” Tormund glared stepping back. 

“No.”

“Then stay,” Tormund said almost begging. Aegon couldn’t answer without breaking, so he didn’t. “That’s what I thought,” Tormund scoffed. “You have everything you want, King, go and enjoy it.”

“I don’t have everything,” Aegon scoffed, wiping his eyes before he stepped out of the tent. 

“Done saying goodbye to your little friends,” his father said, brow raised, with a cruel smirk.

“Egg!” Munda cried out, running towards him.

Tormund caught Munda mid-step swinging her up onto his hip.

“No Papa! Don’t let Egg leave!” she sobbed.

Torwynd and Dormund both stood by their father’s side, trying their best to hide their emotions.

Tormund handed Munda off to Torwynd so he could bring her inside.

“Are you happy now little King?” he glared.

“No,” Aegon said honestly.

“Aegon,” Rhaegar hissed. “It’s time to stop playing pretend with your Wildling pets.”

He didn’t get to finish as Aegon’s fist connected with the side of his face hard enough to make him stagger backward.

“Yes!” Dormund cheered, before quickly quieting down as all the knights lunged forward towards Aegon threateningly.

The knights, for their part, all stopped in a stupor, wondering what to do to defend their King.

“You dare-!” Rhaegar hissed, holding his face in pain.

“I hate you,” Aegon spat out.

“Maybe I should forget our deal, shall I?” Rhaegar growled, pulling a face of disgust. “The world could do with a few less Wildlings.”

“What deal?” Tormund asked, stepping forward.

“If you hurt them I’ll-” Aegon began, rage coursing through him.

“You will not.” Rhaegar laughed. “You don’t have a choice. You  _ will _ be King.”

“What deal?” Tormund asked again, glaring in confusion between the two men.

“My foolish son wants to save you and your little clan,” Rhaegar laughed. “By agreeing to come home and do his job I’ve generously agreed not to punish you for kidnapping the heir of the throne.”

“You’re leaving to protect us?” Tormund said realization struck him hard.

“Now are you going to behave, Aegon, or are my men going to be releasing wildfire on your Wildling friends. A fitting end I think.”

“Egg,” Tormund said softly.

Aegon quickly wiped at his eyes. “I won’t have everything,” he said again to Tormund, though refusing to look his way. “I won’t have you,” Aegon whispered.

Rhaegar, observing this exchange in horror, reached into his saddlebag and pulled a jar of bright green liquid and threw it towards the Wildling that threatened to steal his son.

“NO!” Aegon shouted jumping in front of the spinning jar of wildfire.

The container burst spreading green flames over Aegon. 

“No!” Rhaegar shouted, rooted in place by his despair.

"Aegon!" Eddard and Robb shouted in horror.

Aegon, unharmed, raised his head still engulfed in flames to give his father a look of complete wrath.

“Aegon!” his father gasped, shocked and horrified.

He looked down at the light licking at his unburnt flesh. The Free Folk, the Night’s Men, and the knights alike screamed and watched in both horror and awe.

“Egg!” Tormund cried, running to him before standing stunned and helpless before him.

“I’m okay,” Aegon whispered, reassuring. 

Tormund fell to his knees before him. “My King,” he cried openly.

“Our King!” Dormund cried out pulling Torwynd and Munda from the tent to see, and the Free Folk all started following in their wake. Falling to their knees they all began to cry out.

“Dragon King!”

“Flame Slayer!”

“King of the Free Folk!”

Aegon looked around in awe as the flames finally started to flicker out on his skin. He looked at the faces he’d come to call friends. He looked at the knights that had protected him since birth. He looked at the men of the Night’s Watch. He looked at them, together, knees bent to him, and suddenly he knew. 

He knew there was no going back. He knew that, despite everything he’d ever thought, this was his place. He would be King.

“For eight thousand years my family has sworn an oath to protect the realm of men,” he began, “and for eight thousand years we have failed you. You belong to the realm of men,” he said firmly, his eyes falling to Tormund. “All of you,” he continued, turning to take in the rest of his subjects, knowing that that was what they were now. “I will  _ never _ let the Free Folk be overlooked again, this I, Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of my Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, swear to you.”

The Free Folk cheered, banging their fists against their chest. They suddenly stormed forward, running to him, shoving their shoulders together with camaraderie, pulling him this way and that roughly. They lifted him onto their shoulders and carried him in circles before, finally, they led him to Tormund.

Tormund pulled him from the shoulders of his men and held him at arm's length, staring at his face; taking him in. “My King,” he said again, grinning, pulling him forward into a tight embrace and kissing him roughly on the mouth.

When he went to drawback, Aegon stopped him. He reached up to tangle his hands in Tormund’s hair, pulling hard to keep him in place. He could taste blood and soured milk on his lips and yet still it was divine because it was Tormund; his Tormund.

“Aegon!” Rhaegar hissed, taken aback by his son’s behavior. “You will not-”

He cut himself off quickly at the loud hissing from the Free Folk surrounding him.

“Father,” Aegon growled, pulling away from Tormund’s kiss, but not out of his embrace. “I will not kill you, for the sake of Mother, but you are not to speak a word against me. You will not criticize my reign or question my rule.”

“You’re not king yet,” he bit out, glaring.

Aegon spread his arms wide, gesturing to his people. “Are you going to tell them that?”

“And are your Wildling friends going to forgive your lapse in truth?” Rhaegar hissed. “So you can walk through fire, does that cleanse you of your lies?”

“Lies?” Tormund growled. “He didn’t lie to us,” he said firmly. “He told us he wasn’t a crow. Truth,” he cheered. “He told us he was from an important family, with a father that thought himself even more important. Truth,” he cheered again, and this time Torwynd and Dormund cheered too. “He told us he wanted to help us, and he has. Truth!”

“Truth! Truth! Truth!” they all chanted.

“Our Truth Teller!” Munda yelled, coming to wrap her arms around his waist.

“The Iron Throne won’t recognize you as their king until you’ve been crowned by me,” Rhaegar said, clinging to anything that he could.

“The Iron Throne can rot,” Aegon spat. The Free Folk cheered.

“No,” Tormund said suddenly. “You will take the Iron Throne, my King. You will rule this world.”

“Tormund-” Aegon whispered his heart in his throat. “I won't leave you…”

“The Free Folk will march South to defend you, Dragon King.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long. I hope you enjoy the chapter. I hope to be adding to all my stories soon.

It hadn’t taken much convincing on Aegon’s part to get his knights to watch over his father like a prisoner on their journey back South. Not that he needed to rely on them for his protection. There was not a Wildling amongst them that would not have laid their life down in place of his. A fact that Aegon shouldered with great responsibility. He felt laden with the weight of their honor. He would do everything in his power to be worthy of their accolades. 

Aegon had instructed a few Knights to ride ahead and inform King’s Landing of their arrival. He wanted the Free Folk to be welcomed at every point of their journey. However, with the King’s Gaurd, half the Night’s Watch, and over a hundred Wildlings in his wake, Aegon didn’t foresee anyone drawing arms in a challenge.

Eddard had opened the gates of Winterfell to the Free Folk; and if he did so with a hint of hesitation in his tone, well, Aegon could forgive that. He was eternally grateful for his uncle's show of trust; if not in the Wildlings, than in his word.

“Free Folk!” Sansa had gasped, nearly fainting at the sight of them.

“Aeg!” Arya cheered, jumping to wrap her arms around his neck. “You really did it!” she laughed in shock. “You went beyond the Wall! You-” She stopped short looking up the great height to meet Tormund’s face. “Wow!”

“A real Wildling!” Rickon cheered, bouncing all around the hall.

“Don’t point Rickon,” Catelyn whispered, looking deeply embarrassed of her children's lack of tack. She may not have been completely comfortable with these strangers in her home, but they were guests in that home and therefore she would see that they had all the respect that they were due.

And so the Starks joined in their wake further South. Robb had hesitantly joined in the sparring lessons with Torwynd and Dormund. Ygritte helped Arya with her arrow. Munda and Rickon would run and play, weaving in between the horses and wagons all day. At night Bran and the Free Folk Elders would talk at great length. Everyone would gather to hear their stories; lessons and traditions passed on for centuries far beyond the Wall.

Aegon, like the others, were all shocked to hear the tales of old. Some completely foreign to them, while others were familiar enough to recognize, though clearly altered over the years by retellings.

Arya was especially pleased to hear all the stories of woman warriors. Her eyes were alight with a new passion that Aegon loved. He had always known that his young cousin would be a strong competitor if ever she was allowed to become one. Now though, he didn’t think that she would be waiting for someone to grant her that permission; she would be taking it for herself. She had fawned over Ygritte from the moment she’d seen her pull a knife at the table of Winterfell that first night. She had grown even more impressed when she’d learned that Ygritte was pregnant and still regarded by her fellow Free Folk as a fierce opponent.

Eddard and Catelyn remained mostly pensive; observing the Wildlings interactions with their children and nephew with something akin to baffle and wonderment. They, like everyone, had been raised on stories of the horrid, fearful Wildlings; beast-like creatures, rather than anything close to a man. Seeing them now, walking beside them. Cooking meals, telling stories, training their own children alongside the Starks… It was hard to see them as anything other than  _ people _ . 

Rhaegar had settled down after some of the initial shocks had worn off. He seemed to be acutely aware of the threat the Wildlings offered. Aegon was secretly pleased to see his father put in his place; perhaps for the first time in his whole life. 

“Your father wishes to speak with you, Your Grace,” Tyrion said quietly.

Tormund’s chest puffed out as he drew himself to his full height, letting a heavy hand fall on Aegon’s shoulder. Aegon couldn’t help the thrill that racked him at Tormund’s protective nature.

“I’ve told you Tyrion, I have no interest in what he has to say to me.”

“Perhaps if you just-”

“Your King has given you an answer, Halfman,” Tormund said firmly.

“You know hurting you was never his intention,” Tyrion said, pleading his father’s case.

“Do you honestly believe that Tyrion?” Aegon sighed.

“Of course-”

“Honestly,” Aegon insisted again, locking eyes with the man. He had always been close with Tyrion growing up. He, like Aegon, was very much the outsider of his family. He also possessed a kindness that Aegon equated to his mother’s. When Jaime had been killed for betraying his grandfather, it had been Aegon that had fought to keep Tyrion alive. With the help of Lyanna, they had advocated for him to not only be spared but to take a place on his father’s small council as Master of Whispers.

Tyrion gave Tormund a glance before speaking freely. “Oh Aeg,” he sighed. “You know your father’s temper. I believe, honestly, that he would never hurt you in his right mind.”

“He-!”

“He was not in his right mind,” Tyrion said, sadly. “He was so blinded by his own fears-”

“Ha,” Aegon scoffed; the sound all bitterness and disbelief.

“Rhaegar is  _ terrified _ of losing you, Aegon,” Tyrion said. 

Aegon had a hard time believing his father could be scared of anything. No, that would imply he cared in the first place.

“Did he act rationally? No,” Tyrion continued. “Should he have done what he did? Of course not. But he-”

“You believe I should just forgive him?” Aegon snapped angrily.

Again, Tormund let his hand squeeze tightly on his shoulder, letting him know just what he thought of that idea.

“No,” Tyrion sighed. “I suppose that would be asking rather a lot of you. I just-” he paused, looking like he was mulling over how to express what he wished to say. “He saw you slipping away, Aegon.”

“And who, for all my life, has been the one pushing me away?” Aegon hissed.

“You’ve not always seen eye to eye perhaps…” He trailed off at Aegon’s scoff. “He has always loved you so desperately. The second your mother became pregnant, he insisted that the whole kingdom celebrate; that your mere existence was cause for festival and feast.”

This was not news to Aegon, for he’d heard a thousand times over of the months of jubilee that had preluded his birth. It had always filled him with resentment, however.

“Exactly,” Aegon frowned. “He loves the  _ idea _ of me. He loves the idea of having a son. The idea of having me take after him; taking his place.” Aegon felt undeniably sad. He had always long for him and his father to grow close but it had never taken hold. “I’m not like him Tyrion.”

“No, you are not,” Tyrion nodded. “I see your mother more in you each day,” he added as an afterthought. “Perhaps that’s why he…” Tyrion sighed. “Please don’t dismiss the idea forthright,” he finished, sounding oddly mournful.

“I will give it thought,” Aegon conceded.

Tyrion bowed his head, “Your Grace.”

Tormund was silent as Tyrion made his exit. Aegon looked to him, his eyes desperate for answers. He reached forward and pulled the smaller man into his arms, pressing Aegon’s face to his chest. Aegon instantly sighed in relief; relaxing into his touch.

“I would kill the man that tries to take my children from me,” Tormund said suddenly.

Aegon tensed. “So you-”

“I don’t pretend to understand the way you Southerners work,” he frowned, holding up his hands in defense. “But I have lost a son,” he said softer than he usually allowed himself. He cradled Aegon’s face in his palm, lifting his chin so their eyes met. “A father’s love is not always easy.”

Aegon could hardly let himself start to imagen his father acting out of concern. It seemed maddening. But then again, hadn’t Aegon seen his father acting erratically? His actions so rash it practically screamed desperation. Despite all their differences, despite the fact that he’d left with no intention of returning, hadn’t he always known that his father would come for him? It had never even crossed his mind that his father would let him go.

Aegon had always amounted that to the fact that his father viewed him as a pawn. That, like a stubborn child, he couldn’t bear the idea of losing one of his prized possessions. 

To even consider that his father had acted out of concern? Love even? It seemed a dangerous idea for Aegon to entertain; and yet so, so tempting.

“Let us sleep,” Tormund said softly, leaning his forehead to butt gently into Aegon’s, creased with worry. Aegon nodded, gratefully. He let himself be pulled to bed, knowing that at least this was one thing he neednot worry over.

Tormund had not left Aegon’s side, not for a moment, since the night that he’d emerged from the Wildfire.

Wherever Aegon walked, Tormund followed. When Aegon was pulled away to talk privately, Tormund listened. When Aegon ate, Tormund ate. And when Aegon had been assigned a room at Winterfell, Tormund had joined him there as well. 

They had never discussed this arrangement, but then, there really wasn’t much to discuss. Tormund made Aegon feel safe.


End file.
